


Sherwood Manor

by Thompsra



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Horror, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thompsra/pseuds/Thompsra
Summary: Once Upon A Time meets the Haunted Mansion ride at Walt Disney World. Join Emma and Henry as they tour the Mansion, encountering many of our favorite ghosts: including the bride, Regina, her groom, Robin, and the psychic medium, Zelena. Will they make it out alive? The mansion has a story to tell...





	1. Welcome, Foolish Mortals

**New Orleans, 2016- French Quarter**  
“Come on Mom, we’re going to be late for the parade!” The teenager whined, dragging his mother through the crowded streets of New Orleans. Jazz music filled the air, accompanied by the cacophonous drunken singing of Mardi Gras patrons. The boy and his mother were there to celebrate, of course, having arrived in Louisiana the night before. The over excited teen in question just wished his mother shared his enthusiasm for the French holiday, grumbling to himself as they made slow progress through Bourbon Street.   
“Slow down, Henry! Don’t run ahead!” Emma yelled, knowing it was pointless- her son had a habit of ignoring her. They continued their half jog-half sprint until Henry stopped at the street corner, declaring the spot acceptable for parade viewing.   
“Finally, at least we can see everything from here.” Henry stated, leaning against the street sign. Emma rolled her eyes. Kids these days, so high maintenance.   
“After the show is over, what do you want to do, kid?” Henry squinted his eyes, staring off into space, racking his brain for ideas.   
“I don’t know, nothing too touristy. Those graveyard tours are such a scam- I want a real haunted house experience; you know?” Emma nodded, looking through her guide book.   
“How about a museum?” That didn’t go over well, getting a firm “no” from Henry.   
“There’s seriously nothing about haunted houses in that book? That’s ridiculous.” Sighing, Emma put it away in her backpack, leaning against the same street sign as her son. 

A few minutes later, they were approached by a young African American woman wearing a bright yellow dress with an apron. Having heard the last bit of their conversation, she made her way to the couple, hoping to be of assistance.   
“I’m sorry to bother you, I’m Tiana, I work at the restaurant you’re standing in front of. I couldn’t help but overhear, you say you’re looking for a haunted house?” Henry leaned forward, his interest piqued.   
“Yeah, know any good ones?” Tiana glanced around for onlookers, and handed the teen a map.   
“There’s an old manor just outside the city, hardly anyone acknowledges its existence these days.” She stopped to take a breath, clearly becoming anxious at the mention of this place.   
“The only reason I know about it is because I stumbled across it on a run. It’s a beautiful home, completely run down, but still very Victorian. When I went to go investigate, the gate was locked, but I could have sworn someone was staring at me from the window. It’s worth checking out, at least. I marked its location on that map for you.” Henry was bouncing with anticipation, rocking back and forth on his heels.   
“Know anything about it?” Emma asked, becoming curious herself.   
“The locals call it Sherwood Manor. The 150-year-old legend says it was built by wealthy businessman Robin Gracey as a wedding gift for his bride. No one knows the whole story, but it’s been accepted that the couple were murdered by the jealous housekeeper. Myself, I think the whole thing’s made up, but to each their own.” By the time Tiana had finished her speech, Henry and Emma Swan had made up their minds to visit the manor. 

“We could have picked a better day to do this.” Emma grumbled, driving the two of them out of the city in the pouring rain. Their rental car was a yellow Volkswagen beetle, which would have been fine if they weren’t down a functional headlight, making the journey slow and painful.   
“According to Tiana’s map, we’re almost there.” Henry said, unfolding their guide onto his lap as they drove. Emma sighed, taking another sip from her Starbucks cup. When they had finally reached their destination, both were confused.   
“I don’t see anything.” After 150 years of neglect, nature had reclaimed the property- overgrown trees and bushes shielded the house from the outside world.   
“It’s right there, behind those trees.” Henry was right: the outline of the manor was barely visible in the distance. Satisfied, Emma got out of the car, grabbing her phone.   
“Operation Ghostbusters is a go!” She laughed, and followed her son down the path. When they reached the gate, it was open, sending a chill down their spines.   
“Didn’t Tiana say this was locked when she was here?” Henry asked, picking up the rusted, broken lock on the ground.   
“Relax, the lock probably just fell off- look how old it is.” Henry wasn’t convinced.   
“If we die, I blame you.” The pair walked through the gate, the house now becoming visible in front of them. 

When it was finally completed, Sherwood Manor was a sight to behold. The three story Victorian home had a southern flair to it- with four two story columns making up the front entrance. Painted white with green shutters, the manor was uniquely adorned with detailed metalwork surrounding both the lower and upper porches. Protected by a metal fence, the house looked appropriate for any well to do family. Throughout the years, it fell into disrepair, however it never lost its charm.   
“Well, it’s certainly creepy.” Emma said, crossing her arms across her chest. Henry had already reached the front door, so she ran to catch up. Both of them failed to notice the shadow looming in the attic window. 

With a turn of the handle, the pair entered into a dark, dusty foyer. Coughing up dust, they made their way down the hallway, Emma turning on the flashlight.   
“I wonder who lived here.” Henry casually stated, eyes roaming over the broken grandfather clock in front of the stairwell, stuck at 8:15. Emma continued walking up ahead, scanning the portraits, and then stopped in her tracks.   
“I’m going to guess he did.” She pointed at one of a man with striking features and a pale complexion. Obviously wealthy, he was youthful and attractive, with piercing eyes that held you captive in their gaze.   
“Lord Robin Gracey, 1880.” Henry read, tracing the engraved frame. 

**Sherwood Manor, 1877**   
“Am I to bail out every bank that has filed for bankruptcy?” With a sigh, the pile of papers on the man’s desk grew larger- that would be dealt with at a later date. For now, he needed to see to the Manor’s construction progress. To date, only the essential rooms were finished: mainly the kitchen, master bedroom, and bathroom. The library, much to his dismay, was half done, but work couldn’t wait any longer. The aforementioned room was shaping up to be his favorite- dark wood paneling covering the walls, and a large window behind his desk that brought in just the right amount of light. He occupied the space in his free time, whether it be to sign contracts or read the newest Sherlock Holmes.   
“Well dear, you are the richest man in town.” Robin smiled as his wife approached, bringing him a much needed cup of tea.   
“Right you are, Marian. Quite a shock to a former criminal.” They exchanged laughs knowingly- before he inherited a fortune from his adoptive parents, he spent his days living off of stolen luxury goods. When he got caught stealing from the late Lord and Lady Edward Gracey, the couple realized that this was a man stealing out of necessity- not greed. Instead of having him arrested, they gave him a job as Lord Gracey’s finance manager. The couple grew to enjoy Robin’s company: he was like the son they never had. Recognizing this, as they got on in age, they made the decision to adopt him. With their eventual passing, Robin had become the new Lord Gracey, inheriting a sizeable fortune.   
“Is there anything you needed at the moment, my love?” Marian nodded, taking the now empty tea cup from the desk.  
“The housekeeper you selected has arrived for her interview- Zelena Leota, I believe was her name.” Robin got his papers in order and waited, hoping that this would go well. 

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**   
As soon as he said that, they heard the sound of a door being slammed shut and then locked. Looking back, the front door was no longer cracked open- they were trapped inside.   
“I guess there’s no turning back now.” Emma mumbled, eyes wide. Henry continued to stare at the entryway, looking for evidence that a spirit had done this, and not a gust of wind.   
“Is it colder in here, or is it just me?” He rubbed his arms, wishing he had worn some sort of jacket. Emma pulled him along, the incident fueling her desire to get out of the house as fast as possible. They made a left, and entered the main parlor.

Ample amounts of natural light shone in from the windows, highlighting the oddly pristine furniture: save for a few layers of dust and scattered cobwebs, the room looked lived in. There was a polished wood sofa sitting in the center of the room on top of an antique Persian rug, accompanied by matching chairs and a wooden table. Facing the sofa, behind the chairs, was an elegant marble fireplace. The beautiful herringbone floor matched the rest of the manor, and was complemented by red patterned wallpaper. A large oval mirror decorated the back wall, now reflecting the faces of its unsuspecting guests.   
“Classy.” Emma stated, wiping off the dust on the sofa before taking a seat. Henry lingered in the door frame for a minute or two before observing his reflection in the mirror.   
“Hey mom, you see a rope lying around?” Taken aback by the random question, she looked at her son slightly confused.   
“No, why?” Henry felt a chill run down his spine. He was sure of what he saw in the mirror: it only appeared for a few seconds, but he could make out part of a rope large enough to swing from, or even…hang from.   
“No reason, just thought I saw something. Never mind.” He went to go join his mother on the sofa, taking a deep breath. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until they head a loud, uneven scraping noise.   
“Did you move the couch?” Henry shook his head slowly, staring at the fireplace, and then down at his shoes.  
“Well it definitely wasn’t me.” The scraping started up again. “Weird, sounds like someone dragging a chair across the floor or something.” Henry felt something tap his shoulder, and he looked up to see what had touched him. Too scared to speak, mouth slightly agape, he motioned for Emma to follow his gaze.   
“Oh my god…” Hanging from the ceiling was an old, fraying rope, swaying back and forth slowly. Attached to the rope was the corpse of Robin Gracey. 

**Sherwood Manor, 1880**  
His soul had been anesthetized by lifeless chocolate colored eyes, the analgesia a welcome sensation. Time would adjust to his slowing heart, and cold skin became the new familiarity. Mockery soon took the form of copper hair and deviousness, revealing the fate of his bride. Anger and bitterness wanted to set the woman aflame, but detachment kept her alive, thriving off of empty threats. The mortal coil was temporary: Death would soon honor his wedding vows.   
Robin’s grief had consumed him, Regina’s passing occupying his every thought. Only a few hours had passed, but it was enough to realize that there was only one way the night would end. He had to see her, even if that meant the unthinkable. Having laid his soul mate to rest in the garden, saying his goodbyes, he entered the parlor with a long rope and a chair. Suspending the rope from the ceiling, he stood on the chair and tied the noose around his neck. Had Madam Leota arrived ten seconds earlier, the chair wouldn’t have been kicked out from underneath him, and the air wouldn’t have left his lungs. As that was not the case, a scream was ripped from her throat. 

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**   
Lightening crashed in the distance, highlighting Emma and Henry’s stunned expressions. A sudden feminine screech tore their attention away from the body, but when they looked back it had disappeared. They glanced at each other, unsure of what they just witnessed.   
“So that was either a ghost…. or an actual dead body.” Emma’s gaze returned to the ceiling, trying to decide whether or not she believed in the paranormal. Henry, having gotten over the shock faster than his mother, dragged her out of the room, closing the door behind them.   
“I’m pretty sure we’d notice a dead body as soon as we walked in, mom” Henry stated, feeling like the star in an episode of A Haunting. And that got him thinking: whatever had occurred here must have been horrific. “I wonder what happened to him.” The answer was lost on both parties as they continued moving through the Manor.


	2. Madam Leota

**Sherwood Manor, 1880**  
The front door opened and closed with a bang, letting in the lord of the manor, who was in quite the disheveled state. Panicking, he frantically searched the house for any of its inhabitants, becoming calmer when his housekeeper came into view.   
“There you are! Have you seen Regina? She didn’t arrive at the church this morning.” Zelena seemed to take on a sorrowful expression, and her whole body language shifted.   
“She left town hours ago, prattling on about her nerves, about how she couldn’t possibly go through with it. Didn’t even bother to change out of her dress.” Tearing up, she stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You deserve better than her. I’m so sorry.” Her sympathy appeared genuine, providing the new bachelor some comfort.   
“No. I don’t believe that Madam Leota, I can’t. She wouldn’t. Let me go check on her.” He made to ascend the stairs when Zelena’s hand blocked his advances.   
“There’s no need to pour salt in the wound, is there? Sit down, I’ll make you some tea, and soon this will all be a distant memory.” Robin jerked away from her and ran up the stairs as fast as he could. “Regina!” No response.   
Her bedroom was the first place he thought to look. Upon entering, he almost didn’t know what Zelena was on about. Light from the overhead chandelier highlighted the neatly folded dresses and shirts on the poster bed. Lying adjacent on the nightstand was a well read copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, open to the story of Little Snow White. Various powders and paints sat on the vanity in the far corner, joining her hairbrush and jewelry box in the assortment of beauty products. The curtains were drawn against cream colored walls, revealing the set of French doors leading out onto the balcony. However, Robin’s eyes were drawn to the ornate mirror above the vanity, remembering Regina mention in passing how it was her favorite piece in the room. Becoming frantic, seeing as her bedroom was clearly vacant, there was only one more place she could be.   
He entered Zelena’s bedroom as a last resort, hoping to see his fiancée curled up on the chaise in her wedding attire, absorbed in a novel. It wasn’t out of character for her to be so engrossed in a book that she lost track of time- that he could easily forgive. As to why Regina would choose to pass the time in Zelena’s room rather than her own, the two women had become close after Regina had moved into the Manor. When the two of them had announced their engagement, Zelena was quick to offer her assistance in ensuring that the bride would be prepared for the wedding. As tradition stated that he wasn’t allowed to see the bride before the ceremony, he left to stay with his best man, Will Scarlet. It appeared to be an agreeable idea, at the time. Now, he wished he hadn’t left her alone with this woman.  
His heart shattered into pieces when he realized that she wasn’t occupying this room, either. Zelena appeared to be telling the truth. Feeling his knees give way underneath him, he sat down at the vanity, burying his face in his hands. Watching his tears hit the floor, Robin noticed something odd: there was a dark stain on the usually pristine wood floor. Reaching down to investigate, his hand came up wet with fresh blood. Upon further investigation, the stain trailed out into the hallway and up the attic stairs. Without a second thought, he raced towards the landing of the upper floor, towards Regina, only to be met with a locked door.   
“Madam Leota!” He was shouting now, adrenaline taking over his system. The aforementioned woman came immediately, quickly trying to come up with a reason as to why she had locked up the attic.   
“What is it? What has you so enraged?” Trying to feign innocence was failing miserably with Robin’s escalating rage. He motioned towards the obstruction.   
“Unlock this door. Now. Or you’ll find yourself in need of a new job.” She swallowed heavily- there was no escaping this situation, and she feared the outcome.  
“I was only trying to keep people out until I finished cleaning it- you know how I loathe interference- but if you must.” With a shaking hand, she handed her master the key, which he used without hesitation. She lagged behind, knowing what he would discover, what she had tried so hard to hide. One agonized scream later, and she knew he had found her. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the horror that awaited him in the attic. Bursting through the door like a madman, he began to tear the room apart. Unwanted antiques were tossed aside, including old tables and handmade chairs, but there was still no sign of her. Just before Robin admitted defeat, about to become the most miserable man in existence, but then something sparkled in the far corner. Although strange, seeing as that part of the attic held his suitcases, he sought out the source. The traverse to the other side of the room was painful, because a part of him knew what was causing the shine. It only took a few moments to do so, but he finally laid eyes on the object- his adoptive mother’s exquisite engagement ring…. attached to Regina’s pale hand- limply dangling from the trunk. Heart pounding, he opened the lid and let out an animalistic howl. Her body was crumpled in on itself like a rag doll, having been carelessly tossed inside the makeshift coffin. The once elegant dress was stained with her blood, the rips and tears making evident the multiple stab wounds she had suffered. He couldn’t see her face, hidden by tendrils of ebony hair, but it was enough to send agonizing pain through his chest.   
“No….” He reached in and pulled her close, not caring if he got covered in blood, and started sobbing. She was gone. Brushing the hair from her face, he caressed her cheek and kissed the crown of her head. Robin didn’t know if he was ever going to be able to let her go. 

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**   
Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The atmosphere had shifted following the parlor incident, the air becoming dense and suffocating, but she didn’t think it was anything to worry about. This went on for a few minutes, as Henry debated which room they should visit next. Just as they were about to enter the library, there was a sudden pressure on her chest, and she could sense a pair of eyes boring a hole into her back: they weren’t alone in the house, and the presence wanted them gone. Summoning all her courage, she ran into the room to escape the assault, breathing heavily once they were isolated from the rest of the manor. As soon as the door closed, the air cleared and all tension dissolved from Emma’s body.  
“Are you ok?” Henry asked, watching his mother calm down from an apparent panic attack.   
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She paused, catching her breath. “I don’t know what came over me.” Her chest still felt tight, and she tried taking slow, deep breaths.   
“If you say so. Maybe something in here will help.” 

Characterized by dark wood paneling and a massive bay window, the library housed the manor’s impressive collection of leather-bound tomes- ranging from 1st edition Shakespeare to Alice in Wonderland.   
“Chaucer…Homer…. Edgar Allen Poe…Charles Dickens…” Henry casually read the authors of some books while searching for anything useful. Meanwhile, Emma was busying herself with the mass of papers on the ornate desk in the center of the room. Aside from layers of dust, the desk was in perfect order. No pen or paper was out of place, and the accompanying furniture appeared new. It didn’t make sense- the parlor was nowhere near as organized as this.  
“What is this?” Henry had picked up a crystal ball off one of the tables, and rolled it around in his hand. Suddenly, a green mist appeared inside the ball, revealing the visage of Madam Leota. Henry couldn’t look away from her piercing blue eyes, caught up in her gaze, until she let out an angry screech. 

**New Orleans, 1877- French Quarter**   
“Serpents and spiders, tail of a rat, call in the spirits, wherever they’re at!” Nothing. She tried again, focusing all her energy on the crystal ball in front of her. Silence. Frustrated, she threw her tarot cards across the room.   
“Are the spirits not in a receptive mood today?” Zelena turned to face the newcomer, face distraught.   
“It seems not.” She sighed. “I’m usually quite excellent at channeling them.”  
“You better clean this up before Father arrives.” The sisters shared a knowing look-their father had not been too pleased after hearing about his eldest daughter’s otherworldly talents.  
“I’ll be down for dinner shortly, Vera.” Her sibling vacated the bedroom, leaving Zelena to her thoughts- had she angered the spirits?

Vera had always known that her father and her sister were going to come to blows one day, she just didn’t expect it to be over that night’s dinner. Father had come home in a particularly foul mood- the bank had given his promotion to his colleague, Mr. Gold. As a result, the atmosphere in the Leota household was tense. It would have been fine, if Zelena had not rolled up her sleeves, accidentally exposing the summoning symbols drawn on her arms. Vera watched as their father lost his composure, grabbing Zelena’s arm and dragging her across the table.   
“What. On Earth. Are these?” He was furious, having some notion as to what they were.   
“They’re nothing, I was just- “A loud crack resounded throughout the room, and Vera knew better than to interfere.   
“You wicked girl! Bringing the devil into this house, what would your mother say?” Both sisters flinched- their mother had died a few years ago of heart failure.   
“Let her go, Father.” It was a simple request, but she had to do something. There was a pause for consideration, but eventually he released his grip.   
“I want you out of this house tomorrow before dawn, Zelena. You are no daughter of mine.” Vera gasped, she didn’t think he would go that far. Looking over at her sister, her face was set in a wounded expression.   
“If that would please you, Father.” Before Vera could reach out, Zelena had retired to her room. She quickly did the same, not sparing a glance at the man that had just destroyed their family.

They came to her in her sleep: visions of a beautiful mansion, a wealthy couple, and a young woman. She tried to wake up- it was almost too much- but couldn’t. The spirits were determined to keep her until they conveyed their message. Over and over again she saw the same three images. Was she supposed to find this manor? This couple? All of a sudden the images shifted: a graveyard, its destruction, and then that manor again. Her head was pounding; she’d give anything to wake up. A flash of an address, and then it was over- she jolted awake, gasping for breath. Not wanting to experience that again, she made up her mind to venture to the mysterious manor. 

Conveniently, the address communicated to her was not far from her former home. It had taken her a while to look it up, and she had felt relieved when it turned out to be the house under construction by Lord Gracey. Some time ago, she had heard all the local gossip about a wealthy businessman and his wife building a home by the Mississippi, and had to investigate these rumors. They turned out to be true: the unfinished skeleton of a future landmark was before her. Satisfied, she turned to leave, but there was something…odd about the property that didn’t sit right with her. At the time, they were ridiculous notions- so she brushed them aside without a second thought. Until now. 

While she was shown a complete structure in her vision, the current façade was about three quarters finished, revealing the distinctive columns and ironwork from her dream. With a cover story in place, she hoped Lord and Lady Gracey would be as welcoming.


	3. The Bride

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**  
The ball fell from his hands, shattering on hardwood. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself.  
“What the hell, kid?” Her son had never looked so terrified, she realized, as he continued to stare at the shards of glass on the floor.  
“You didn’t see that?” His voice was shaky, clearly in a state of shock.  
“No, I saw you pick up the ball, scream, and drop it like it was on fire. What happened?” Before Henry got a chance to answer, the green mist reappeared, swirling around them.  
“Horntoads and lizards, fiddle and strum. Please answer the role by beating a drum!” They could feel the air get cooler and denser around them, but they were frozen in place.  
“…Rap on a table; it’s time to respond. Send us a message from somewhere beyond.” The house started to shake, startling the both of them.  
“What is going on?” Emma shouted over the noise, bracing herself using the doorframe.  
“…Wizards and witches, wherever you dwell, give us a hint by ringing a bell!” Books were flying everywhere, windows were breaking, and all the air felt like it had been sucked out of their lungs.  
“Mom- we have to leave now!” Emma agreed, but their only exit point was through the newly shattered bay window, which lead out into the garden. Grabbing Henry, they made a break for it, narrowly escaping the wrath of an enraged psychic. 

The garden was peaceful by contrast. Centered around a tiered fountain, pathways lined with red and white rose bushes guided the visitor on their tour, occasionally assisted by grand magnolia trees and iris flowers. Untouched by Zelena’s dark spirit, the area was reminiscent of a sanctuary long forgotten. While mostly overgrown, the plant life concealing most of the brick wall infrastructure, it seemed like a good place to rest- both Emma and Henry needed to recover from their ordeal. They settled on an iron gazebo hidden in the shade of a large oak tree.  
“Are we going to ignore what just happened back there?” Emma asked, breaking ten minutes’ worth of silence. Henry shifted on the nearby bench, finally looking his mother in the eye.  
“How do you think she got trapped in the ball?” That wasn’t the response she was expecting.  
“Who?” Henry mentally cursed- obviously Emma had no idea what he was talking about.  
“That voice in the library causing the destruction. She was in the ball. I think I released her when I dropped it.”  
“So we almost die in a haunted mansion, and all you can think about is feeling sorry for some random ghost?” Emma arose from the opposing bench and was pacing.  
“We don’t have the whole story. First it was the hanged man, and now the floating head in a crystal ball. What actually happened here?” That was a good point, she had to admit.  
“Well, we’re not going to find out just sitting here. Look for some clues.” 

Aside from the broken window glass that now littered the lawn, nothing was amiss. No bloodstained bricks, no partially dug up bones, nothing. And it was starting to wear on the novice sleuths quite a bit.  
“Anything?” Henry yelled, kicking over yet another rock.  
“No!” She was just about to give up when her eyes noticed a figure by the random, out of place apple tree. That was weird. As far as she knew, her and Henry were the only ones here. Emma decided to approach the stranger, curiosity getting the best of her.  
“Excuse me, hi, I was just wondering if-” What Emma had planned to say died in her throat. The woman tuned around, and Emma had never been so terrified. The stranger’s ebony hair fell around her face in loose, unkempt curls, highlighting her unnaturally pale complexion. Her eyes were piercing, but that’s not what unsettled Emma the most. The blonde’s eyes traveled down, falling upon a wedding dress that had been ripped, torn, and bloodstained. Then it hit her: this woman was most definitely dead.  
“Who are you?” Emma blurted out, kicking herself for the impulsive response. The woman said nothing, instead choosing to disappear.  
Henry rushed over, disappointed that he missed the ghostly encounter. “What happened?”  
Emma stood staring at the spot the ghost vacated, ignoring her son, until she remembered something.  
“I knew she looked familiar!” Henry was massively confused, trying to avoid Emma’s flailing limbs.  
“Slow down. What are you talking about?” Right. Henry didn’t see her.  
“It’s the woman from the portraits in the parlor and the library! You know, dark hair, dark brown eyes, pale complexion. I forget her name.” But Henry hadn’t.  
“You saw Regina? Did she say anything? Give us any hints?”  
“Negative. But I have a few ideas.” Henry sat down on the ground, leaning against the base of the apple tree.  
“Yes, Sherlock?” Emma rolled her eyes.  
“She was definitely important to Lord Gracey- why else would her portraits be everywhere?” This made sense in Henry’s mind, but was it familial or marital?  
“Like his wife, or something?” Emma considered it, it was logical, but unlikely.  
“Here’s the thing. If they married, she would have adopted his aristocratic title. Her pictures were only labeled ‘Regina’, right?” Henry nodded.  
“But, I think that was their intention. She was wearing her wedding dress. Probably got murdered on her wedding day- god that’s horrible.” They sat in silence for a while, imagining all the gruesome ways Regina could have died.  
“The garden must mean something to her.” Henry mused, picking an apple off the tree and biting into it.  
“Do tell, Watson.” Emma grinned, continuing the joke.  
“She could have appeared in the house like the others, but didn’t.” He had a point.  
“True. I guess we’ll never know.” Emma went to brace her hand on the ground to stand up, when she brushed a block of cold stone. Upon further inspection, she chuckled.  
“Spoke too soon.” As Henry read the inscription, the tragedy of the mansion was beginning to unravel.  


Regina Mills  


(1855-1880)  


Fairest of them all


	4. Tragic Romance

**New Orleans City Park, 1879**  
“It’s a beautiful day for a stroll, isn’t it John?” Robin commented to his companion as they strode through the park on horseback.   
“Indeed. Perfect for lifting spirits.” His friend wasn’t wrong. The sky had cleared of any clouds, revealing an azure coloration that highlighted the hundreds of oak and moss trees lining cobblestone pathways. The influx of sunlight guided them along, stopping momentarily on the stone arch bridge to admire their reflections in the lake.   
“You’re under the assumption that my spirits need lifting. While I miss Marian with all my heart and soul, I’ve finally started to heal.”   
“I’m glad to hear that. Her passing was hard on everyone.” Robin nodded, having come to terms with his grief a few weeks ago.   
“Shall we head towards the pavilion? There’s supposed to be a live auction today, I could use a few new horses.” 

**New Orleans, 1879- Mills Plantation**  
“Faster, Calypso! Not much longer now…” The pair whipped around the turn with blazing speed, kicking up all kinds of dirt and dust in their wake. Wind tore through the rider’s hair as she navigated the course with ease, skillfully maneuvering the horse to the finish line.   
“One minute thirty, Father will be pleased.” The young woman dismounted, leading the racehorse from the practice trail to the property stables, knowing her father was there eagerly awaiting the result.  
“How did he fare, Regina?” Her father, Henry Mills, was known throughout the state as the breeder of the finest Thoroughbred racehorses- three of which were Kentucky Derby winners. His only daughter, Regina, was tasked with training them for potential buyers.   
“Beat yesterday’s time.” She answered, putting the tack away. Henry hummed, pleased- this horse could earn them a small fortune at tomorrow’s auction.   
“Excellent. He’s ready to be sold- Can I entrust you with taking him to auction tomorrow?”  
“Of course. I shall let Daniel make the preparations.” While her family’s staff were more than capable of handling the transactions, it allowed Regina the opportunity to exercise her own horse, Rocinante. 

**New Orleans City Park, 1879**   
“See any to your liking?” John commented after a few suitable specimens came and went. He knew his friend had exquisite taste, but this was unlike him. Robin usually bid on a horse within the first half hour. It had now been thrice as long.   
“Pardon? Are we still talking about horses?” John looked incredulously at his companion, blinking a few times.   
“What has gotten into you?” No response- Robin had drifted away again, gazing at something unknown.   
“Or is it a who?” John muttered, finally noticing the dark haired lady in a powder blue riding habit, astride a black stallion. He could certainly see why she had taken Robin’s breath away. Clearly of Spanish and Italian descent, her olive skin tone was offset by striking dark eyes and full lips. She even carried herself elegantly on horseback- a clear sign of formal training. Quite a catch, if his friend conducted himself properly.   
“I’d like to bid on that horse.” There was no use in arguing with a man infatuated, so John just complied.   
“Going once…twice…sold for two hundred dollars to the gentleman in the back!” Robin couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. 

**New Orleans City Park- Evergreen Stables, 1879**  
“Am I correct in assuming you’re Calypso’s new owner, Lord Gracey?” Robin and John watched her approach- the confidence and grace she displayed while handling the massive stallion heavily impressed the two men.   
“Indeed, Lady…?” Not wanting to come across as rude, Robin let her introduce herself.  
“Regina. Regina Mills.” She handed the reins over to him, giving the horse one final brush.  
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Regina.” Robin began scratching behind the horse’s ears. You and your father raised a fine horse.”   
“Thank you.” Even though he wasn’t complimenting her specifically, she still blushed somewhat. “He has a fairly mild temperament for a stallion, but is the fastest horse we’ve had on our plantation since Cyclone. If you plan to race him, you’ll do well.” Robin decided that he’d like to get to know her better, but also couldn’t rush things.  
“He’ll be taken care of wonderfully, no need to worry.” She laughed, patting Calypso on the back.  
“That was never my concern, I have no doubt he’ll have a good home.” Realizing it was getting late, she took a few steps back, away from the incredibly handsome lord.   
“I’m sorry, but I must be going. Other horses to see to, you know.” Robin nodded in acknowledgment.   
“You’re more than welcome to stop by the manor, if you ever desire to visit Calypso. And me, of course.” They both chuckled.   
“Well, until then. Goodbye, Lord Gracey.” Robin watched her retreat, hoping she would consider his offer. Lady Regina had left quite the impression on him.

**Sherwood Manor, 1879**  
“Lady Regina.” To say he was surprised to see her was an understatement. It had been a month since their last encounter, and he was beginning to think the worst. Seeing her on his front porch, smiling slightly and wearing a pale yellow dress (without those ridiculous bustle skirts, he was pleased to note), was enough to accelerate his pulse.   
“Lord Robin.” She acknowledged him with a customary tilt of her head. “Is this a good time?” He blinked, trying not to look like an utter fool.  
“Of course, please do come in.” He stepped aside, allowing her to traverse the entryway into the massive, lavish home. “Decided to stop for a visit after all? I do hope the delay wasn’t my doing.” That came off more flirtatious than he desired. Would she receive it well?  
“Oh, not at all! Things have been terribly busy at the plantation as of late, and I wasn’t able to slip away until now. Your offer was such a generous one, and it would be incredibly rude of me to ignore it.” She removed her traveling gloves, once again finding herself staring into his captivating gaze.   
“Nevertheless, I’m pleased you came by. Come, let me give you a tour of the house and grounds.”

Robin had enthusiastically launched into a detailed account of his family history (which, unsurprisingly, tied into the history of the property) the minute they set foot into the parlor. A story about a former criminal turned lord, she was captivated by his enchanting foreign accent as they moved from room to room. The manor itself was a masterwork in Victorian architecture, and she loved the intricate details that tied the house together, especially the parquet floor patterns. However, when they reached the east wing of the manor, she was surprised to see it still under construction. Curiosity won out, in the end, and she couldn’t help but inquire after it.  
“Lord Robin?” He stopped his monologue and turned to face her, awaiting her query.   
“Robin is just fine, milady.” She blushed- he was such a gentleman. “What is on your mind?”  
“Your home is quite beautiful, but I couldn’t help but wonder as to why its unfinished.” His posture visibly sagged, and his expression was pained.   
“I was married once before. My wife, Marian, this house was her design. Unfortunately, she passed, and I halted work on the project.” Regina’s chest constricted in empathy. It was a situation she knew all too well.   
“I’m sorry for your loss.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, moving to rub soothing circles on his back.   
“Marian was all I had- my adoptive parents passed a month into our marriage.” He let out a sigh, appreciative of the comfort Regina was providing. “I still don’t understand how she died.” They paused the tour in the library, taking a moment to connect with each other.  
“My own mother died of heart failure when I was very young. It’s just been Father and I at home for as long as I can remember.” Now it was his turn to provide a comforting touch, taking her hand in his as she spoke.   
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He took her in his arms, guiding them both to the sofa. “If it is of any consolation, at least your mother went quickly and painlessly. I can’t say the same for Marian.” Regina turned in his embrace, an eyebrow raised in surprise.   
“Robin…what exactly happened?”  
“Two years ago, I arrived home from work and she was nowhere to be found. Becoming frantic, I ran out on the balcony hoping to find her.” He paused, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, trying to cover up his shaking hands. “To my horror, I looked over the railing and found her…twisted at unnatural angles from the fall. The police told me that it was likely she had been pushed, but they couldn’t prove anything.” He felt his eyes becoming damp, and wiped at them with a handkerchief.  
Regina gasped, horrified. “Who could have done such a thing?”  
“The only other person that lived with us was our housekeeper, Zelena. I just have difficulty believing she’s capable of murder.”  
“What makes you say that?”  
“She’s so mild tempered, always so thoughtful and attentive- an overall lovely person.”  
As if on cue, the aforementioned redhead appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray containing two cups of tea.   
“Good afternoon Lord Robin. I made tea for you and…your guest.” Zelena was taken aback somewhat- Robin usually only invited over his colleagues from work, so a female presence in the house was intriguing, to say the least. Was she here on business? A lover, perhaps?   
“Ah yes, Zelena, this is Lady Regina Mills. Her family breeds racehorses- that horse I bought last month came from her plantation.” Zelena nodded and set the tea tray down on the coffee table in front of them. Business, then. She could let her guard down somewhat.   
“Well, if you need anything, just give a shout.” Before she could depart the room, Regina called after her.   
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss-?”  
“Leota. And likewise, Lady Regina.” Zelena smiled at the pair and swiftly exited the library. Rounding the corner, she let out a sigh of relief. They were just acquaintances. With her fears dissolved, she went about tidying the manor to her obsessive specifications. She had standards to uphold, after all. 

Six months later

“John! So glad you could find time to stop by, there’s something I’d like to get your opinion on.” Robin was about to make a life-altering decision, but wanted to consult his oldest friend first.   
“Is this about the house again? I already told you, Regina will adore it regardless. Go ahead and add that third story if that’s what will satisfy you.” John leaned back in his chair with a sigh. Robin was obsessing over every last detail, entirely focused on winning the approval of his lover. “Although I’m glad you’re finally finishing years’ worth of work on the place, I can’t help but wonder why Regina’s opinion matters so much. It’s not as if she’s moving in…” John trailed off, noticing Robin squirm in his seat. “…is she?” Robin suddenly found a particularly interesting spot on the floor to stare at, avoiding John’s gaze.   
“Oh. So that’s what this is about. You’re going to propose, aren’t you?” John couldn’t fault his friend’s choice in women. He enjoyed getting to know the Lady Regina over the past couple months, and he found her quite lovely. Robin certainly was taken with her, couldn’t shut up about her, in fact. Who was he to disapprove of their union?  
“I love her, John. I know it seems ridiculous given the short time span, but I do. Not just because she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but because she has such a loving heart. I can’t fathom spending my days without her, it hurts my very soul, and I must marry her.”

Unfortunately, Zelena chose that particular moment to walk by the parlor. Marriage? She must have heard wrong- there was no way Robin would marry that Mills woman. To her knowledge, they were only friends and nothing more. But now, she was uncertain. Lingering by the doorway, she eavesdropped on the rest of their fateful conversation. 

“You have my consent, and my congratulations. Regina will be beside herself with happiness.” Zelena’s famous temper was quickly spiraling out of control- the grip she had on the doorframe tightened, her hand shaking with anger.   
“I’m delighted you approve, John. That means more than I can say.” He reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a small velvet box, opening the lid. Inside was a three carat diamond ring with ruby accent pieces. It would certainly be the envy of all the women in New Orleans.   
“This was my mother’s ring.” Robin admitted, passing the box over for John to inspect. “I didn’t give it to Marian- it just wouldn’t have suited her.” John turned it over in his palm.   
“I see what you mean. This is more fit for the Empress of Austria. Regina certainly looks the part, doesn’t she?” Robin laughed, putting the box back in his pocket.   
“Alright, enough about my impending marriage- I won’t be able to propose until next week, after Regina returns from Belmont. Tell me about your newest business acquisition, a hotel, did you say?”   
The two men retuned to their meaningless chatter, so absorbed in themselves that they didn’t hear Zelena stomp off. She was so angry she almost let her impulses get the best of her, which included telling Robin how she really felt about him, but that would be too rash. She had to bide her time and plan a course of action, like she did with Marian, and everything would be back to normal. They didn’t call her wicked for nothing. 

One week later

“Robin, you did all of this…for me?” Regina knew that her oh so doting suitor was the generous type, however she clearly underestimated his desire for her affections. While she had been away, Robin had turned part of the manor’s grounds into a beautiful garden- complete with a fountain, pond, and gazebo. She loved it all, but it was Robin’s attention to detail that particularly warmed her heart. The hedges were arranged in a labyrinth-like pattern, referencing Alice in Wonderland (her favorite), with the red and white roses following suit. It was perfectly catered to her tastes, and she loved him for it.   
“You mentioned wanting a rose garden. I admit, my enthusiasm got the best of me, love.” She chuckled, it was the understatement of the century.   
“I love it, it’s wonderful.” She reached for his hand, bringing it up to her chest, stroking it with her thumb.   
“Now- you wanted to ask me something?” Robin’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and he maneuvered his hand that was in her grasp in order to guide her along to the gazebo. Once they were both standing in the center, Robin kneeled in front of her, still holding her hand.   
“Regina Mills, before we met, I doubted that my broken heart could love again. Then, by some miracle, my deepest wish was answered and you appeared in my life. A goddess, practically perfect in every way.” Regina blushed, tears already finding their way down her face.  
“However, it’s not just your beauty that captivates me. You can be bold and audacious, perhaps even stubborn at times, but you hold such endless love in your heart for those around you that I never want to be apart from. You are my future, Regina.” The ring appeared in his hand, eliciting a gasp from Regina.   
“Would you make me the happiest man in Louisiana and become Mrs. Gracey?” Regina couldn’t hold back her tears anymore, falling into his arms.   
“Yes. Yes of course I will, you hopeless romantic!” The kiss that followed immediately after would remain in Robin’s memory as the best moment of his life.


	5. Jealousy

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**  
“Only twenty-five years old…what a shame.” Emma mumbled to herself, tracing the engraved letters with her finger. Henry had made himself comfortable by leaning against the tree, still eating away at the apple in his hand.  
“What’d you say, mom?” He was only half listening, much more interested in counting the number of apples on the various branches.  
“It was nothing, never mind.” They sat there for a while, resting, welcoming the reprieve from all things supernatural. It was short-lived, however, as the eerie chimes of a music box filled the air. At first, Emma thought she was hearing things, but then the music got louder.  
“Do you hear that?” Emma asked, nudging Henry with her elbow.  
“No…” He sat up, listening intently for whatever his mother was on about.  
“You’re telling me you don’t hear that creepy, horror movie trailer music?” That did it- he was suddenly aware of a bone-chilling, yet pleasing melody.  
“Where is it coming from?” Both of them had moved from their resting place, making their way back towards the house, entering through the ornately detailed French doors.  
“Upstairs.” A cold feeling of dread set in, would they re-encounter the woman in the crystal ball? The bride? Someone else?  
They traced the origin of the music to the master bedroom, where the object in question was spinning on its own, the dancing figurines twirling in time to the song.  
“That’s weird.” Emma retrieved the trinket and gripped the hand crank, and as she did so the melody ended. The manor was now deathly quiet, save for the two living occupants.  
“I guess we should look around while we’re here.” Henry proposed, already foraging for clues in the massive suite.  
The overall ambiance of the main bedroom was light and romantic, clearly designed for Lord Gracey and his fiancée Regina. The octagonal room boasted cream brocade walls offset by purple and gold curtains, which complimented the Arenberg parquet floor. A cream chaise lounge sat by the window, draped in a purple throw blanket. On the opposite side of the room sat the king sized bed and matching nightstand, which were characteristic of the Victorian time period. Another purple quilt was positioned across the bed, upon which laid the item that attracted the attention of the teenage sleuth.  
“Take a look at this.” Henry had passed his mother what appeared to be an old letter, written in fine calligraphy. Emma put down the book she was examining, beginning to read the mysterious piece of handwriting. 

April 15, 1885 

I can’t take it anymore- this accursed house is driving me mad. During the day, doors open and close of their own accord, and even the damn floorboards creak. At night, I’m haunted by their howling, screaming, and crying, which I suppose I brought on myself. I realize that now. After all these years, I can finally say I regret what I’ve done. Mostly. I shouldn’t have murdered Robin’s young fiancée, that’s where it all went wrong. He would still be alive if I hadn’t acted on impulse. Marian, however, deserved it- what he saw in that irritating little trollop is beyond even my psychic abilities.  
Memento Mori, they whisper, the spirits and apparitions that brought me here to begin with. They want me, want my soul trapped in this house, forever their mistress. The sensible thing would be to leave, but they trapped me here. So today’s the day. Today, they finally get what they desired. They win. A fitting punishment for a sociopathic serial killer, I suppose. 

Madam Zelena Leota 

There was blood smeared on the bottom of the page, Emma noted, evidence of this woman’s suicide.   
“Well, now we know who killed Regina. That crazy crystal ball lady.” Emma made the connection between the ghost they saw earlier and the information in the letter.  
“That’s what I was thinking too. But who is Marian and why did she kill both her and Regina?” Emma sat on the edge of the bed, they were going to be here a while.  
“Good question Henry, good question.” 

**Sherwood Manor, 1880**  
“Master Gracey, I heard screaming, what…” Zelena’s words died in her throat upon seeing Robin cradle his deceased fiancée. Remembering that she still had the murder weapon on her person, she put down the candle she was holding and discretely removed the knife from her apron. Planning on stashing it in the floorboard, she didn’t account for the squeak the panels would make, and this caused Gracey to look in her direction, away from his love’s face. “You did this.” He whispered, observing the bloodstained piece of silverware in her hand.  
“Me? I would never do such a thing!” Curious as to what tipped him off, she followed his gaze to the knife.  
“Oh, this? I was preparing steak for dinner earlier, and when you called I didn’t have the time to put it away properly.” She could sense Robin wasn’t swayed, and her heartbeat accelerated.  
“I was under the impression that Chef Lucas was preparing pork for tonight’s reception.” He knew she was lying, and something inside her snapped.  
“I had to! It was supposed to be me! She ruined everything!” Zelena exclaimed, throwing the knife in a fit of rage, the object finding purchase in the rear wall.  
“I’m sorry?” Had she really killed Regina out of jealousy?  
“I knew, from the moment we met, we were destined to be together.” She began pacing the room, having picked up the candle, and started gesturing with it.  
“But your heart was already married to another.” She paused, grinning at the horrified look on Robin’s face.  
“Oh, did you think Marian’s passing was an accident?” As she spoke, facing him, the candlelight enhanced the wicked gleam in her eyes.  
“I let you have a mourning period, as is proper. And then, I began my advances towards you, my love, when it was appropriate. Which you were blind to.” The last was spoken bitterly, the macabre storyteller taking a seat in a dusty armchair.  
“I would have succeeded, eventually, but then you met the enchanting, charismatic, and oh so pure Regina Mills.” Zelena glared daggers at the form in Robin’s arms, causing him to tighten his hold on her.  
“And when you announced your engagement, I knew there was only one way I was going to secure a place in your heart.” All the color drained from Robin’s face.  
“Don’t fret, she passed rather quickly- I take pride in my handiwork.” Zelena shifted to gaze at the multiple gashes present on Regina’s body, chuckling to herself.  
Robin continued to stare at Zelena in horror, choking out “I could never love someone like you.”  
She suddenly became infuriated and departed the attic, leaving the grieving man with chilling parting words: “You have no choice.” 

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**  
“Jealousy.” Henry stated, bringing Emma out of her trance.  
“What about it?”  
“It’s the oldest motive in the book. Zelena was probably jealous of Regina because she and Robin were going to get married, and she wanted Robin to herself. If that’s the case, Marian was probably his first wife, and she killed her to free up the title of Mrs. Gracey.” Emma had to agree with the kid, he was smart for his age.  
“Might as well say it- Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” She snorted, mentally congratulating herself on her knowledge of 17th century British plays.  
“Nice quote use, Mom. I didn’t know you could sound so smart.” She tossed a pillow at him in response.  
“I’ll remember that next time you want to use my credit card for Xbox Live.” They shared a laugh, but it seemed as if the manor was determined to ruin the lighthearted atmosphere. A loud bang reverberated throughout the room, startling both of them.  
“What the hell was that?” Emma held a hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her frantic pulse.  
“Sounded like…a gunshot.” Henry recovered faster than his mother, searching for what he believed to be the murder weapon.  
“Hey mom- Zelena’s note was definitely a suicide note, right?” Henry had opened the top dresser drawer, rummaging around inside.  
“Pretty sure kid, why?” Whatever he had been searching so intently for, he found it, fishing the prize out of its hiding place and holding it up for her to see. It was an old Colt revolver.  
“I think she shot herself.” 

**Sherwood Manor, 1885**  
Every night was the same dream. She would find herself in the manor, only it would be completely empty. No lavish furniture, no elaborate chandeliers. Just dust and numerous cobwebs, maybe a spider or two. The main corridor would stretch endlessly in front of her- the glowing candelabra always just out of reach. As she ran, the eyes on the walls would follow, a stark contrast against their purple background. Her destination was always the master bedroom, harboring an empty gilded cradle. That’s when the crying started, the wail of a newborn infant.  
“It’s alright Roland, mommy’s here.” A feminine voice soothed, and Zelena gulped. This was the part she hated. The ghostly silhouette of Regina reached down and gathered the bundle of blankets in her arms.  
“My little prince…” Then she would turn to face the intruder, suddenly enraged.  
“This is your fault!” She would scream, extending her hand out to grab the redhead. “He wasn’t even born yet!” Of course, Zelena hadn’t known the young bride was pregnant. Zelena was many things, but she would never stoop so low as to knowingly commit infanticide.  
“I didn’t know!” She responded, turning to run away. “I’m sorry!” Her surroundings would then shift to a graveyard. Along with the marked graves of those she had murdered, those demonic apparitions she was so familiar with would appear, grabbing whatever part of her they could reach.  
“Join us! There’s always room for one more!” They cackled, beginning to drag her into the mausoleum. This was where it would end, in her screams. 

“I can’t go on like this.” Zelena mumbled, getting out of bed after another restless night. It had been five years since the murders, and three of those passed uneventfully. Then all of a sudden, the house roared to life. Doors opened and closed on their own accord, the floors creaked, and even sometimes a window would shatter. Things of hers would go missing, the crystal ball in particular, and nothing ever stayed in the same place. On rare occasions she would be visited by Regina’s spirit, who constantly asked about Robin’s whereabouts- as if she was unaware he died as well. Marian never strayed from the balcony, deeming it appropriate to reenact her death at the most inopportune times. Lastly there was Robin, who would pace the parlor, wondering where Regina was and why she left him at the alter. Of course, no haunted house would be complete without screaming and crying, and Zelena often had to go for a walk to escape the cacophony (if the spirits allowed it- she was their prisoner). The constant stress wore on her, and she made an executive decision. No more.  
On a stormy April afternoon, she carried out her plan. Procuring a gun, she loaded and placed it on her bedside table for later use. There were still some final arrangements to attend to. Most importantly, the letter. After penning a rather well thought out suicide note, she folded it up and dropped it on the bed. Surely someone would find it eventually. It took a few hours to gather up the courage to go through with it, but at 11:11 that night, the gun went off. Her body dropped to the floor, but the house still had the final say. The crystal ball, resting nearby, trapped her spirit for all eternity. 


	6. Marian

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**   
As the number of tragic deaths continued to reveal themselves, Emma and Henry were more determined than ever to uncover the whole truth. So far, they had four confirmed deaths, but only complete knowledge about two of them. The details behind Marian and Regina’s deaths remained unknown, for now.   
“Let’s see…Robin hung himself and Zelena played a fatal game of Russian Roulette. All that’s left are the two murders.” Emma started walking towards the adjacent balcony that overlooked the garden- she needed fresh air, and if she was being honest with herself, a cocktail. “Brace yourself kid, it’s only going to get worse from here on out.” Henry leaned on the metal railing, resting his head on crossed arms.   
“How do you know?” His question was muffled by his sweatshirt.   
“I just have a feeling.” Was it merely intuition, or was it the otherworldly atmosphere of the manor?  
“Let’s just…rest here for a while.” Not finding anything wrong with that request, Emma copied her son’s lazy posture and chose to lean against one of the massive white columns. She was content just relaxing, watching a few squirrels dash across the yard, when her eyes fell back on the railing, mentally scolding herself. Why hadn’t she noticed earlier?  
“Hey Henry, is that railing you’re leaning on stable?” Really? He had been putting his weight on it this entire time, and she just now asks about its structural integrity?  
“Yeah…why?” Emma pointed to the portion right beside him. It was broken and cracked in places, parts of it missing, even. Right then Henry felt like an idiot for not realizing that important detail.   
“Whoa.” He bent down to inspect it further. “Looks like something hit it pretty hard.” It was a decent analysis, but Emma had other ideas.   
“Not what Henry, who.” And it wasn’t a completely ridiculous assumption: the damage done to the metal grate was pretty severe, and given the history of the house…  
“Marian?” As soon as the name left his lips, Emma felt a push from behind, causing her to loose her balance- almost falling off the balcony herself. 

**New Orleans Opera House, Mardi Gras Masquerade Ball, 1876**  
“I simply cannot believe I fell into your trap yet again, Will Scarlet.” Robin grumbled, reaching to grab a glass of wine from the waiter’s tray.  
“How dare you say that! Firstly, it was not a trap, it was an invitation. Secondly, you willingly accepted said invitation. And thirdly, you are the head of the company that’s hosting this event! You are technically obligated to attend, I just sent out the invitations.” Robin rolled his eyes at his childhood friend, sighing deeply.   
“Remind me why I hired you, Scarlet?” His colleague took another sip of his wine, grinning.  
“My dashing appearance? My charm? The fact that I’m your best mate and you need me?” Robin sighed, looking at his watch- was it too early to excuse himself?  
“You’re full of it, Will. Go and find a dance partner before I come to my senses and release you from my employment.” Will bowed mockingly, walking off to mingle with the many noblewomen in attendance.   
“I hate these things.” He growled, not one for pomp and circumstance. His company, or rather his parents’ company, was responsible for importing the finest British and French goods for those who could afford it. After a few years, Gracey and Co. came to be well known throughout the south for their quality and reasonable prices. They were sought out by the French Opera House on Bourbon Street, who proposed a partnership. One of the…benefits of the partnership was the grand masquerade ball held annually on Mardi Gras, which the Gracey Company paid for. Hence, Robin’s forced appearance.   
In truth, Robin wasn’t completely miserable. He passed the time admiring the décor of the venue, which included chandeliers and banisters decorated in purple, green, and gold ribbons, matching the evening’s dress code color palette. Ladies were instructed to wear dresses displaying the Mardi Gras colors, and the same went for their gentleman’s’ cravat. The in-house symphony played in the background, providing the masked attendants with the evening’s entertainment. As Robin watched couples twirl across the floor, he was approached by a young woman in gold, fanning herself vigorously.   
“Fancy some company?” Robin gestured to the space next to him.  
“Be my guest. Are you allowed to tell me your name or is that against the rules?” She laughed, removing her feathered mask.   
“Lady Marian Nottingham, sister of Lord Edward.” Ah yes, he knew her brother quite well- he had been pestering him for months about a merger with his own company, but Robin refused to budge. Lord Edward was more concerned about turning a profit than pleasing the customer, which Robin completely disagreed with.   
“Pleasure to meet you, milady. Lord Robin Gracey, at your service.” Robin shook her gloved hand, grinning. “I can’t say the same about your brother. He’s been a thorn in my side for quite some time.” Marian chuckled knowingly.   
“I’m terribly sorry about that. My brother is not as clever as he claims.” With the tension cleared, Robin remembered his manners.  
“Would you care for a drink?”   
“How thoughtful of you, that would be delightful.” He called over the server and poured them each a glass of champagne. Will just happened to glance over at this time, giving his friend a knowing smirk. Robin raised his glass in his direction as a response.   
They conversed for the remainder of the evening, ending the night with a dance. Robin ended up enjoying himself so much that he decided to voice his thoughts.   
“I’d very much like to see you again, after tonight.” Robin admitted. “I had a wonderful time.” Marian returned the sentiment.   
“The feeling’s mutual, Lord Gracey.”

**Sherwood Manor, 1877**   
“I’m terribly sorry to keep you waiting Ms. Leota.” Robin apologized as he strode into his office, slightly out of breath. He hadn’t expected the meeting with Lord Nottingham to drag on for one and a half hours.   
“It’s alright. I’ve been kept busy by all these lovely books.” Bright blue eyes met his own, studying him intently. He was a fine looking man- she was going to enjoy working for him.  
“Finally! Someone that appreciates fine literature!” They shared a laugh, and any awkwardness in the room was now dissolved.   
“Shall we discuss the terms of your employment, Ms. Leota?” The woman shifted on the sofa, drawing some paper and a pencil out of her bag.  
“Please, call me Zelena. Have you read my letter?”   
“Yes, you wish to work full hours and live in the manor?” The redhead nodded, noting to herself that if she played her cards right Robin might take an interest in her.  
“I believe that can be arranged. I will have my wife discuss the particulars of the job at your convenience.” Did he just say wife? This complicated things, but nothing she couldn’t deal with. Life as Robin’s mistress would be just as satisfying.   
“I look forward to meeting her then. Lady-?”   
“Marian. You would have met her today, but she had previously scheduled tea with a few acquaintances in town.” Robin signed the agreement and handed it back to his new employee.   
“I’m sure we’ll get along swimmingly.” And this was true- as long as she got what she wanted, there wouldn’t be any problems.   
“Excellent. I’ll have my butler arrive at your home next Monday morning to gather your belongings.”   
“I’ll see myself out then, thank you.” When she left the manor, Robin spent the rest of the afternoon in his office, writing Zelena into his company’s payroll.   
Meanwhile, the aforementioned young woman chose to occupy the remainder of her day perfecting her seduction technique. 

Three months later

Zelena’s original idea was never going to work, and it was all because of Marian. Robin’s wife, charismatic and kind, always put the needs of others before her own. She doted on her husband endlessly- and Robin was clearly grateful. They were inseparable, jointly attending everything from charity events to weddings. It was evident through his adoration of Marian that he would never entertain the idea of a mistress. So, in order to obtain her goals, she had to resort to drastic measures.   
The following days passed in slow motion: Having put all the components in place, all Zelena had to do was wait for a prolonged period of time where Marian would be isolated from Robin. That turned out to be more difficult than she expected, as the pair were rarely in separate rooms for more than a couple of minutes. Her solution was to wait until Robin left for his monthly meeting with Lord Nottingham downtown, which would leave her alone with Marian for a few short hours. Therefore, her plan had to be quickly and effectively executed before Robin returned home.   
Luckily for Zelena, that meeting took place only two weeks after she had initiated her scheme. And so far, neither Marian nor Robin suspected a thing.   
“Alright ladies, I must be off.” Robin gave his wife the usual goodbye kiss and then departed, thinking to himself about how well the two women were getting along- falling right for Zelena’s charade.  
The two remaining members of the household continued to sit in the parlor and make small talk. As they passed the time, Zelena happened to notice the weather. Conditions were bright and sunny, but not too hot- it was the perfect setting for what she had in mind.  
“It’s such a lovely day, care to join me on the balcony for lunch?” She knew Marian would agree, given the woman’s love for the outdoors.   
“Of course, how thoughtful of you.” The lady of the manor stood up, making her way towards the staircase. “I shall see you shortly, then. This dress isn’t suitable for warmer weather.”   
Zelena took the opportunity to prepare the afternoon meal- sandwiches and teacakes, as per Marian’s instructions. And who was she to deny her victim one last request?

“I have to confess; I don’t know much about you.” The statement came out of nowhere, and Zelena narrowly avoided choking on her sandwich. Did Marian have some kind of ulterior motive, or was she simply being cordial?  
“What would you like to know?” Zelena would play along, for now.  
“Are you local to New Orleans? What kind of home did you come from?” Ah. Just harmless questions. This she could deal with.   
“I grew up in the area, yes. My father was a carpenter, and my mother a nurse at Charity Hospital.” Zelena’s expression darkened at the recollection of her family. “We’re not exactly seeing eye to eye at the moment, however.”   
“How terrible. May I ask why?”   
“My sister was, and probably still is, their favorite. Ever the obedient daughter, doing what was asked of her, while I elected to get an education. That was frowned upon, as you can imagine.” Marian’s sympathetic nod encouraged her to continue.   
“One day they decided enough was enough, and that I was to be disowned from the family. Having nowhere to go, I sought out this job. And here we are.” That was harder than she expected- dealing with her inner demons seemed to never get easier.   
“I can relate, to a degree. My brother Edward got all the attention when we were younger, as he was expected to run the family business. When it came to me, all they asked from me was to find a husband, marry well. I believe I’ve done that, Mother and Father would be proud.”   
“They’re no longer with us?” Zelena couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, she knew how it felt to lose the ones you love- abandonment hurt just as much as death did.   
“Both caught a nasty case of tuberculosis some months ago, and never recovered. I miss them every day.” She reached a hand out to comfort her, maybe there was no need for her plan after all.   
“Robin helps with that, the loss. He’s such a good husband.” And then Marian had to go and ruin it all by bringing that up. Suddenly, her initial plan was looking better and better by the second. “I do hope you’ll find love just as I have.” Zelena saw red.   
There was a pause in the conversation, electing Marian to walk over and lean her body on the railing, taking in the lush landscape of the garden.   
“I love a good summer breeze.” Mrs. Gracey sighed, letting the wind sweep through her tousled hair. With the younger woman’s back turned to the the redhead, Zelena began closing the distance between the two.   
“As do I, but I can think of something better.” Before Marian could ask what, Zelena quickly placed two hands on the small of her back and pushed. Robin’s wife sailed over the edge, plummeting twenty feet and landing on the brick walkway- skull cracking on impact. 

As soon as Robin made his presence known later that day, he heard Zelena’s terrified shout of: “Come quickly, there’s been an accident!”


	7. Heartless

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**   
“Lookout!” Henry noticed that Emma was about to fall and grabbed a hold of her jacket, pulling her back onto the landing.   
“Thanks, kid.”   
“What just happened?” Henry was staring at the broken piece of railing like it was possessed.   
“I’m not sure, but this house clearly doesn’t want us uncovering all its secrets.”   
“Not all its secrets- we still don’t know what happened to Regina.” Emma groaned- she really, really wanted to go back to the hotel and take a nap.  
“Can’t we just get out of here? I’m sure we can find her obituary in an old newspaper or something.” Henry looked disappointed, but he wasn’t going to argue with her: he was lucky his mother even agreed to come on this ghost hunt.  
As they began to walk downstairs, about to leave, they felt a presence behind them. A third set of footsteps intermingled with theirs for a brief moment before turning around and heading in the opposite direction, towards the third floor. Once Emma and Henry realized what was happening, they froze in their tracks. No one dared to breathe as the heavy footsteps stomped their way up the attic stairs, and then stopped. A tense, lingering silence followed until it was broken by the sound of a key turning in a lock, a doorknob twisting, and a door slowly creaking open.   
“What was that?” Emma whispered, her blood running cold once again. She didn’t know what just happened, and she didn’t want to find out. Henry, however, was of the opposing mindset and fearlessly turned to look.   
“Uh mom…the attic door’s open. Wasn’t it shut earlier?”   
“Yeah.” Emma sighed, knowing what Henry was going to suggest. “You want to go investigate, don’t you?” At his enthusiastic grin, the pair found themselves prolonging their stay. 

“Is that…blood?” Henry leaned down to get a closer look, noticing smears of blood staining the wood.   
“Probably.” Emma smacked his hand away before he made contact. “Don’t touch it, gross!”  
“Look- it leads right to the attic!” As Henry followed the trail to its end destination, it was the origin that caught Emma’s eye. The novice sleuth then tracked the smears of blood down to one of the second floor bedrooms.  
“Found the starting point!” Emma yelled, getting Henry’s attention. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone dragged a body from the guest bedroom to the attic.” Henry came running back downstairs, wanting to see for himself.   
“Think it was Regina’s body?”  
“It’s possible. I bet our answer’s in the attic.”  
Before the duo got the chance to move, a rhythmic dull thud made itself known. It was quiet, barely noticeable, but there nonetheless.   
“I don’t want to know what that is, but I guess we’ll find out.” It was inevitable, really, given Emma and Henry’s ascent to the final room in the manor. The floorboards groaned under their feet as they shortened the distance between them and the attic, and the temperature suddenly dropped to a chill. 

“We’ll live happily ever after!” The dull thud echoing in their ears became louder and more pronounced, turning into a steady heartbeat.   
“Robin? Where are you?” The panicked and distraught voice of a young woman was unmistakable. The pair stepped through the attic doorway, taking slower and slower steps.  
“Till death do us part, remember?” As the voice’s distress grew, so did the disembodied pulse.   
“Oh my god!” Emma shouted, hand flying to cover her mouth: the bride had made her appearance. 

Covered in decades of cobwebs, the loft of the manor was a fitting haunt for tormented souls. Old furniture was scattered throughout the room, almost blending into the dark chestnut walls. Multiple framed portraits were among the mix, as well as an ornately detailed harp. As Emma and Henry traversed through piles of tables, dressers, mirrors, and chairs, they paused to take a look at a particular trunk.   
“More blood.” Emma stated, squatting down so that the rusted lock was on eye level.  
“Should we open it?” Henry was tentative- Halloween decorations were one thing, but seeing the real thing…terrifying.   
“What do we have to lose?” The blonde yanked the lock from its resting place, and then lifted the lid. She wished she didn’t.  
“I’m going to vomit.” Jerking away faster than a frightened animal, Emma leaned over one of the tables and focused on the building nausea. Henry decided to approach the trunk to see what had disturbed his mother.   
“It can’t be that bad.” He was very, very wrong. Lying inside the trunk was a carved box, which was open, revealing a live human heart beating away within it.  
Henry screamed, stumbling backward. There was only one explanation for this- the supernatural.   
A chill filled the air, followed by Regina’s angry cries.   
“Oh my god!” Emma had gone stark white: Regina had made herself known, and she was out for revenge. 

This was the first time the pair had laid eyes on the ghostly bride, and she was striking. Her delicate and pointed features were accentuated by ebony tresses and wide, chocolate colored eyes. Full lips were stained red, which contrasted light olive skin. She was petite yet curvy, assets complimented by her dress. The white and lacy bridal gown was masterfully crafted, covered in pearls and crystals. There was a veil to match, held in place by an ivory comb. However, given the circumstances of her death, the dress was no longer pristine. The fabric was ripped and torn where Regina had been stabbed and dragged, blood staining the cream material. There was a hole in her chest from her missing heart, now occupying the box. Regina’s expression was a mix between anger and pain as she gazed upon the horrified intruders, moving to grab Emma by the shirt. 

“If you won’t tell me where Robin is, I’ll force it out of you!”

**Sherwood Manor, 1880**   
“Wake up Regina, today’s the day!” Zelena chirped, drawing the curtains in the guest bedroom, causing the morning sunlight to pour in. Regina groaned, pulling the blanket up over her eyes in retaliation.   
“It must be six in the morning! Can’t I have a lie in? The ceremony isn’t scheduled until half past three!” Zelena ignored the bride-to-be’s protest and practically yanked her from the bed.   
“There’s no time: Robin is still with John and Will, so that leaves just us girls.” Zelena paused her speech to guide the drowsy young woman to the bathroom. “I have taken it upon myself to get you ready to walk down the aisle, so rise and shine!”

Once Regina finished her bath, Zelena sat her down at the vanity and began the process of styling her hair. The bride’s long ebony tresses were curled and twisted into a bun, held in place by an ivory comb that belonged to Regina’s mother. Face powdered and lips crimson, Lady Mills stepped into her floor length lace bridal gown, laced into it by Zelena. Her cream colored heeled boots completed the ensemble.

“I believe I’m ready now.” Regina exhaled, smoothing the layers of her dress nervously. She was about to marry the love of her life, her soul mate, and it was terrifying. Zelena smiled, about to escort the woman downstairs, when the voices in her head had other ideas. 

“Kill her! She’s stealing the man you love! Get rid of her like you did Marian!” They whispered, egging her on. It seemed the longer she continued to live here, the worse the spirits got: preying on her vulnerability so she would succumb to their will. Zelena rubbed her temples, trying desperately to ignore them. Maybe this time they would leave her alone.   
“Are you alright Zelena? You look a bit pale.” Regina observed her friend worryingly, noting that the previously cheery woman had taken a turn in the opposite direction.  
“Never better.” Satisfied, Regina turned back to the mirror for one final glance at her appearance- she wanted to look perfect for Robin. 

“Now’s your chance! End her!” The voices persisted, driving Zelena closer and closer to the brink of insanity. The redhead blinked a few times, choosing instead to take a few calming breaths. She wasn’t giving in that easily.  
“Do it, or we take over.” Zelena didn’t like the implications of that threat, nor its authoritative tone. However, she knew better than to disobey- she received quite the tongue lashing over her hesitance to kill Marian.   
Zelena impulsively grabbed the knife off the table, placed there from breakfast (taken upstairs that day out of convenience), and plunged it straight into Regina’s back.   
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid there won’t be a wedding today.” Zelena whispered into Regina’s ear, the knife now deeply embedded into the skin.  
Regina cried out as she felt the blade slice through tender muscle and surrounding tissue, gasping for breath. With a satisfied smirk on her assailant’s face, the knife was then removed, causing blood to pour out and stain the pristine fabric of her dress. Before Regina could register what transpired, the knife found its way into her body three more times- once in her abdomen, once in her neck, and once just above her heart.   
And just like that it was finished: Regina hit the floor with a thud, narrowly avoiding catching the edge of the vanity. Zelena stood over the newly created corpse, bloody knife in her hand, breathing heavily. It was done, she had succeeded. But now she had the task of hiding the body. 

Zelena weighed her options: she could bury her in the backyard like Robin did Marian, but that would take too long. Robin would surely notice his missing bride and would return to the manor looking for her. But what else could she do? 

“The attic.” The voices chanted. “Put her in the attic.” A vision of the attic flashed before her eyes, showcasing the large trunk at the back of the room. It was perfectly hidden by the rest of the clutter and large enough for a human body. Excellent.   
Mind made up, Zelena grasped Regina’s hands (which were rapidly losing their warm temperature) and dragged her out of the bedroom and up the second floor staircase, leaving a trail of blood behind her. She would have been more careful about hiding all the evidence, but she was focused on the most important piece: the murder victim.   
Panting from exertion, Zelena managed to heave all one hundred and ten pounds of dead weight up and into the trunk. She was about to close the lid when she received another message from the great beyond.  
“Her heart. We need her heart for the ritual.” Zelena didn’t bother to question the demons- that only made things worse. And besides, she was already dead: what harm could it do?  
Grimacing, the redhead carved out the intact organ from the chest cavity and found a small box to keep it in. Closing the lid, for good this time, she went back downstairs to quickly wash away the blood on the floor. If she played her cards right, she wouldn’t be blamed for Regina’s death.


	8. Reunion

**Sherwood Manor, 2016**   
“Wait! I’ll tell you everything, just let go!” Emma choked out, trying to pry the unnaturally cold and clammy fingers from her neck. Regina paused, surprised that the blonde was so cooperative. The other tourists (and sometimes locals) that had found their way to the manor over the last one hundred and thirty-six years were much less helpful, collapsing from fear after encountering Regina. In truth, the bride had become quite vengeful in her quest to find Robin, ripping out all the hearts of those that defied her- emulating what was done to her in death.   
“As you wish.” Regina relented, releasing Emma from her ghostly grasp. Henry, who had been observing the exchange in horror, decided to speak up.  
“You mean you don’t know what happened to your fiancé? After all this time?” The teenager watched a heartbroken expression grace the brunette’s face, and he immediately wanted to comfort her. He held back, however, in favor of listening to her story.   
“No, I don’t. After I died, I tried searching for him, but it seems I cannot leave this room. Fate is a cruel mistress, as they say.” Both Emma and Henry sympathized with the young bride, hoping that what they were about to tell her would make things right.  
“Well, we found him: apparently he hung himself in the parlor downstairs. I’m sorry, truly.” Regina shed a single tear, having cried out most of her grief years ago.   
“He’s here. After all this time, he’s still here.” Trying not to become overly optimistic, Regina closed the distance between herself and the doorway, eager to reunite with Robin. Upon touching the doorknob, the brunette was thrown backwards into the heap of old furniture. She was still trapped, and the revelation infuriated her.   
“WHOEVER’S RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS WILL SUFFER!” The tortured bride proclaimed, distraught over the fact that she was still unable to embrace her beloved, despite her newfound knowledge of his location. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, influenced by Regina’s prolonged anguish, providing the perfect environment for the culprit to appear.  
“Do your worst!” The disembodied voice taunted, soon taking the form of everyone’s favorite psychic medium. At that moment, Regina lost her remaining sanity, overcome with blood lust.   
“No. Not you!” The enraged spirit lunged at her murderer, intent on avenging her lover.

The crystal ball disappeared just as Regina’s fingertips made contact, reappearing above the trio, floating close to the ceiling.   
“I’m afraid so.” Zelena cackled, clearly enjoying herself. Meanwhile, Emma and Henry stood off to the side- this wasn’t their fight.   
“Does Robin know you trapped me here?” Regina yelled, trying in vain to reach the crystal.   
“Indeed he does, he happens to share your fate.” A strangled cry echoed throughout the room as the bride picked up a nearby chair, tossing it at Zelena in anger.   
“Explain!”  
“After Robin found out you had died he was beside himself with grief. Clutching your body, sobbing into your hair, the works. I thought he would eventually get over your passing and move on, preferably with me. As you can figure out, that didn’t happen. He hung himself downstairs before I could stop him. Overcome with grief myself, I cried over his remains. But then, the spirits came to me and told me I had to rip out his heart and enact the same ritual as yours, cursing him as well. They tricked me: I was told that by enacting the ritual Robin and I would be together forever, and of course that was a lie. He ended up trapped in the parlor, and out of my reach.” Zelena ended her speech with a wistful tone, staring at the floor.   
“I won’t let you keep me from Robin any longer, Zelena!” Regina shouted, rushing towards the door, only to be blasted back once again.   
“End this, now!” Zelena only chuckled, gathering up all her remaining power in a swirl of green smoke.   
“Creaking crypts and quaking tombs, I summon the spirits to this room!” As the enchantress began her summoning spell, the attic windows blew open, letting in the cool night air.   
“Banshee screams, sounds of despair, send your calls through the air!” And soon, they had company. Dozens of apparitions made themselves known, targeting Emma, Henry, and Regina. The ghosts started moaning and groaning, tossing whatever they could reach at the trio.   
“Rotting flesh and brittle bones, I call upon the old crones!” All hell broke loose. Literally. It was pandemonium: friendly and hostile spirits alike flew about, disorienting the group, while Regina felt herself being sucked into a forming portal.   
“Emma! Henry! Do something!” Regina pleaded, not knowing how much longer she could hold out. The mother and son pair looked at each other in fear: they were out of their league.  
“What do you think stops the spell?” Henry asked, quickly racking his brain for anything that could help.   
“We have to defeat Zelena, she’s the power source.” Emma stated, shielding herself from the impact of an airborne dresser. And suddenly, Henry had an epiphany. The crystal was obviously housing her spirit, so if they destroyed that, Zelena would be gone.  
“Smash the ball!” Emma didn’t need to be told twice. Fighting her way through multiple projectiles being thrown her in direction, she snatched the crystal (containing an unsuspecting Zelena) out of the air and slammed it on the ground. The force was enough for it to shatter on impact, sending multiple shards speeding across the room. With nothing to sustain the spell, the conjured spirits returned to whence they came. And Zelena, the misguided psychic, was no more. 

“Everyone alright?” Emma asked, brushing sawdust off her jacket that had landed there during the fight. Henry, meanwhile, maneuvered his way out of the corner he had been backed into, helping Regina up in the process.   
“We’re fine!” He responded, meeting his mother in the center of the room- the only spot not covered in broken furniture and pieces of wood.   
“Thank you for your assistance.” Regina said, grateful for their help. “Because of you, I can finally see my fiancé again.” The brunette slowly glided to the doorway, willing to try again one final time. Her breath was slow and shaky as her hand touched the doorknob, relieved that she was met with no resistance. She turned to look at her saviors, who gave her a smile and nod, and then departed the attic- the door closing behind her.   
“I’m happy for her, you know?” Henry stated, the pair following suit.   
“Yeah, we did a good thing today.” Emma agreed, noticing how much brighter the atmosphere in the manor was. Zelena’s commanding presence was gone, leaving a much calmer one in its wake: the manor was no longer a place of foreboding.   
Now back in the foyer, Emma and Henry almost didn’t want to leave. Their time here left a lasting impression- one of absolute belief in the supernatural. And speaking of, there was a particular apparition that wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 

“Emma, Henry, wait! There’s someone I’d like you to meet!” Regina’s voice rang from the parlor, now joyous and exuberant. Chuckling to themselves, the duo retraced their steps and walked back into the parlor, the scene before them heartwarming.   
Completely intertwined, limbs locking and foreheads touching, the bride and groom only had eyes for each other, until Emma and Henry made themselves known. The couple broke apart, but Robin kept an arm around Regina’s waist, extending the other for Emma to shake.  
“I don’t believe we’ve met- Robin Gracey, Lord of Sherwood Manor.” Emma returned the handshake, unable to keep her enthusiasm in check.  
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Emma Swan, and this is my son Henry.” Henry stepped forward, greeting the man with a handshake of his own.  
“And you already know my fiancée, Lady Regina Mills.” At the mention of her name, Regina blushed (as much as a ghost could) and curled further into her betrothed.   
“She loves you so very much, you would have had a great life together.” The ghostly couple shared a look, and Emma could see that there was something on their minds.   
“Actually, we have a favor to ask of you.” Regina said, unsure of how to phrase it. Robin sensed her hesitation, and stepped in.   
“Regina and I would like you to marry us.” The shock on Emma’s face was evident.   
“We were denied a wedding in life, but death is much more forgiving.” Robin continued, trailing his fingers up and down Regina’s side.   
“I have waited over one hundred years to call this woman my wife, and that is long enough.” By now, everyone was misty-eyed, tears threatening to spill over. Emma dabbed at her face with her sleeve before happily agreeing to the request.  
“I would love to.” 

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Lady Regina Mills and Lord Robin Gracey in holy matrimony.” Emma began, reading from a traditional ceremonial transcript on her iPhone. Regina and Robin were facing each other, hands grasped, with Regina’s veil lifted over her face. Henry was the designated ring bearer.   
“Should there be anyone who objects to this union, they must speak now or forever hold their peace.” As expected, there was silence.   
“You may now exchange vows.” Robin was first, gazing adoringly at his bride.   
“Regina Mills, I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. You are bold and audacious, wonderfully kind, and unearthly beautiful. Although we’ve had our fair share of misfortune, we are here now, and this is true. You are my future.” Tears were now freely flowing down Regina’s face, and she had to gather herself before responding.   
“Robin Gracey, my heart and soul, you are my everything. Your generosity and selflessness never cease to amaze me. I still don’t understand what you see in me, but I look forward to an eternity of finding out.” Emma waited patiently for them to finish, and then continued.   
“Do you, Robin Gracey, take Regina Mills to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish her forevermore?”   
“I do.”  
“Do you, Regina Mills, take Robin Gracey to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor and cherish him forevermore?”  
“I do.”   
Henry stepped forward with the rings, having procured them from the writing desk drawer. The bride and groom took turns exchanging them, each adding their own declaration.  
“I, Robin take thee Regina to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in life and in death, for richer or poorer, and I promise my love to you from this day forth.”   
“I, Regina take thee Robin to be my husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in life and in death, for richer or poorer, and I promise my love to you from this day forth.” Emma put down her phone for the big moment, getting choked up herself.   
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride!” Absolutely elated, having made it official, the newlyweds crashed their lips together and threw out all notions of chastity in the process. They could finally rest in peace. 

“As much as I hate to rain on the parade, Henry and I should get going. We can’t stay here forever.” Emma’s words broke the couple out of their trance, and they gave each other a knowing look: they couldn’t avoid this moment even if they tried.   
“Of course, we understand.” Robin responded, escorting Emma and Henry to the front door. Regina, being a proper hostess, personally saw her guests off.   
“Thank you for everything. We hope you visit us soon!” Regina hugged them warmly before moving to stand on the porch, Robin joining her.   
“Don’t worry, we will.” Henry reassured, waving at the two of them. Sparing one final glance at the manor, Emma and Henry began their journey down the pathway, putting distance between them and the haunted residence.   
“Think we missed the end of Mardi Gras?” Henry joked as they reached the gate, eager to return to the festivities.   
“Only one way to find out!” Emma responded, ready to head back to New Orleans.

As they passed through weathered brick columns, the cast iron gates clanged shut behind them. Brushing it off as the wind, they kept walking. Emma felt a tap on her shoulder, but ignored it: it was probably nothing. But then, a voice whispered into her ear, and her heart stopped.  
“Hurry back, we’re just dying to have you!” She whipped around, trying to find its owner, and her eyes landed on the manor in the background. She could have sworn a shadow crossed the attic window…


End file.
